Daughter of Apollo, Lord and God of the Plague
by Thunder S Silence
Summary: Kyle has spent her entire life isolated from society with her mother. Now, due to an unforseen accident, she must leave her home and search for the family she's never known in her entire eleven years of living. How will she fare alone in the big NYC?
1. Prologue

This information about Apollo's being the God of the Plague comes from a book called "Greek Religion" by Walter Burkert. It spawned this idea, and I've been loving it ever since. Beware the minor gods in this one, kids!

I tried to make the main character very young-sounding, so forgive the lack of variance in word-usage and simple and redundant sentence-structure. If such a perspective can be improved, please tell me how in your reviews. Thank you!

* * *

"When Apollo enters Olympus with his dread bow all the gods spring to their feet;

Only Leto his mother remains seated;

She takes the bow and quiver from her son and shows him to his seat;

She rejoices that she has given birth to a mighty, bow-carrying son."

_~Hymn to Apollo, as translated in the book Greek Religion, by Walter Burkert_

My mom hates me, I think. She really doesn't act like the moms in the Bible. But she says we must strive to be like them, despite our flaws. Especially me, the bastard child of an evil pagan god. The Bible says he shouldn't exist, but mom says he was created by the devil himself, a sin against God in all ways. The antichrist. Therefore, as the granddaughter of Satan, I must be purged of my overwhelming evil tendencies by praying seven times a day, reading a book from the Bible every week, and by changing my appearance to better fit God's holy image. And, to ensure that I will not follow in my evil father's footsteps, I am never allowed to go to the Road without my holy, God-fearing mom.

"…thank you, Lord, for letting me wake on this glorious day, and please prevent the evil thoughts of my father and grandfather from entering my mind. Bless my mom and me with Your grace, Love Kyle. In Jesus' name, Amen." That's my name. Kyle. Kyle Marie Baker. I'm a girl, if you're confused. My mom always told me that if anyone laughed at the boy's name, it was because I deserved to be mocked. An undeserved name for an undeserved existence. I didn't like it when she told me that. I always kind of liked my name.

Then again, I liked my eyes, too, but mom didn't like them or my hair. She said it was unnatural. His looks. Green eyes and blond hair, though I don't quite know what blond is. I don't remember what my hair looks like. Mom has shaved my head since I was small to keep my father's vanity from entering my being. She tries not to look me in the eye too often, either. She says she sees the evil of my father lurking there in the shadows, waiting for the opportunity to break loose.

I don't regret being partially, if not mostly, evil, though, because if I weren't we would starve. You see, I love hunting. That is how my father's evil has permeated my being, and I pray to God for the ability to control it, but I will never stop loving it. Even when I was small, when my mom read a non-Bible story that involved a trap or a chase, I always wondered how it worked, how far and fast one would have to run to catch someone, and I would fall asleep dreaming of the game I could catch. I thought about making and setting traps to catch some things, and perhaps learn a bit about them and their mechanics, but that would be cruel, and therefore evil and deserving of my mom's righteous blows of punishment. But traps didn't occupy me for too long.

Ever since I saw a picture of a bow and quiver, I've been obsessed. The form, the tension of the string, the sound and rush of release; all are what make the weapon beautiful. Even the name is beautiful. Bow and arrows. Just hearing it made my heart beat hard, and I remember I begged my mom for even just a picture of such a beautiful thing. When she finally gave it to me, on my sixth birthday, that was it. I knew where the wickedness of my soul came from, and it could not be purged even by my most God-fearing and serving mom. I was born for it. I secretly read about it long into the night, using flashlights under the blankets and hiding places for any books mentioning the mystical, fantastic weapon. Once, I even went so far as to attempt my own construction of one and try to hunt with it. I had to try in the middle of the night, and it didn't work so well, so I was severely punished for the telling scrapes on my legs from tripping, but it didn't matter. The bow was my calling, my holy way of glorifying God. I had to go back to it. I think mom knew, too, because she left the house for several days and came back with books on nothing but archery and home-made arrows and bows. I think she went to the Road to get them. I was so happy. I love my mom. She helped me to get all this food for us, and I was so excited, I spent all night reading the first book on bow-making.

Now, combined with mom's very clever traps, we get lots of game, usually. On good days, we can get a stag and some rabbits, and we can last for a week without my needing to go out again. On bad days, though, we find traps sprung with yellow dust all around them. That didn't make sense a long time ago, and even my mom was confused by the dust, but we prayed to God for a revelation, and got one.

That day, our house was attacked. I was seven, and had been wielding the bow for almost a year at that time, but I was still so raw with my technique and was still so unskilled that it wasn't enough. The giant Goliath that faced us had merely one eye, but he was as tall as our house! Not quite as tall as a tree, but he easily uprooted one of the yearlings for his weapon. I remember shooting him, hitting his hand which blocked his eye and his arms which shielded his body, but all did nothing. He was unstoppable for little David alone. Little Kyle alone.

Then, my mom went after him with a kitchen knife, and she stabbed him in the thigh. I remember I was shocked. Scared. Surprised. And impressed. She had run after him with a roar that even her righteous screeches paled in comparison to, and her face was so savage that I shivered in fear. I thought maybe mom had been possessed by a demon. But if she had, the one-eyed monster knocked it out of her as he, too, roared, though in pain and not battle-heat. His small tree swept across her body, batting her to the side and wrenching the knife out of his leg. It frightened me, to see my mom, who had saved little David from fighting Goliath alone, knocked aside so easily. And, as she hit the tree, followed by the yearling, I was worried. My mom might be hurt. Or worse.

Then I was angry. I notched an arrow and let it fly, loading them more and more quickly until I was out and the monster resembled a porcupine more than Goliath. His arms leaked wood, but still he did not fall. Instead, he only looked angrier. He focused down on me, small little David alone again, and he lunged at me, grabbing my arm and lifting me up, forcing me to drop my bow only so he could step on it clumsily. I froze. I was shocked. That had been my best bow, my only real functioning one, and it had just been destroyed. And my mom was out, maybe worse. I was angry. Angry enough to scream, to yell, to kick and hit and perform all of the evil things we do as angry humans. I hit his hand with my fist, howling with fear and anger and the strange pain that comes from hanging oddly, but it did no good. He merely laughed at my futile efforts, poking my belly with a finger the size of my head before his coughing began.

I was still screaming, still beating him with my small ineffective fists, unaware of his situation. My eyes screwed shut in my panic, and I was exhausting myself, but when I heard and felt a large rumbling in the ground, I opened my eyes, stilling. The monster had fallen to his knees! He was coughing, shaking, and he threw me down suddenly as if I might be poisonous. I hit my head on the ground, and was very dizzy, but I was not unconscious. I watched as black spots started showing up on his body, like bruises, spreading like blood seeping from a fatal head wound. I was surprised. Nothing I'd touched had ever had this happen before, but just as his body was covered in the sickly purple discoloration, he coughed up yellow dust and exploded into a large pile of powder, leaving only his skull behind. It was ominous, but I supposed God didn't want me to think it a dream later, and so He'd left it for me.

Since then, many more monsters had come. My mom had gone to the Road for books, and I had gotten to go with her, which was really fun. She'd recognized the monster as something the pagans believed in, and had decided to take a stand against my father's agents of evil by reading their stories and teaching me about the monsters. I was lucky. Teaching was her calling in life.

She told me the monsters are evil and that true evil never dies, and so they will keep coming. She said that my father has sent them to come and get me and start me on a path straight to Hell, as he will never stop trying to do. I have nightmares about that a lot. Every time I wake up from one, usually having slept-walked to a corner and huddled in it, I pray extra hard to God that I don't go that way. I don't want to burn forever in the lake of fire. Fire scares me. And usually when I wake up, I really start to hate my father for sending the monsters. But I still pray for the evil things' souls every time they are killed by me, and every night before bed. I hope God listens then. I hope He understands my reasons for killing them. I hope He forgives me for such a heavy sin, even though I don't deserve it. Even though I am the daughter of the antichrist and was born to be pure evil.

I wear gloves all the time, now, to shield others from my unholy power. My mom thinks it's for the best that I only take them off when hunting, for her safety especially. She stares at me a lot more, now that she knows about my ability, and she hesitates to touch me when either of us are angry or extremely happy. Her righteous punishments have ceased, which confuses me sometimes, but she has told me that God has shown her another path. Now, I have to tend the fire at night and cook meat in order to prepare for Hell when I've been doing evil things. It's worse than the other punishment, I think, but she tells me I must face the fire as Joan of Arc faced it: without fear, and with complete faith in the Lord for my protection and the protection of everyone. Because she told me that, I always pray when I carry out my punishment.

It was when we were learning about wars that I lost my mind. She was teaching me on the day after the Sabbath, Monday June 16th, and I had just begun the monthly bleeding that comes with becoming an adult. I was crying a lot when I hunted, and I couldn't catch anything because my sobs were too loud to catch any game. My mom told me to stay home after I came home in tears a third time, and decided to distract from the growing, gnawing pain in my abdomen by going over another war involving the rest of the world. She was telling me about the clever traps and tricks armies played on each other, about how trenches had been dug to hide and protect soldiers, and about how holes were dug into the other camps so that they could blow each other up. At first, I found it interesting. I even thought the fact that penicillin was developed and saved many lives was a gift from God that could perhaps help protect people from me, in case an accident should happen. But mom kept going on about it. Making pointed remarks about how it opened up doors for healing those with incurable diseases. How it led to vaccinations that healed like my father always claimed he could, but how he never did. How I was just like him. How I was just as evil.

My mood soured quickly, and I felt angry, hurt tears burn in my eyes. Why did she do that? We were having such a good time together, and then my father has to come in and ruin everything. Why?

Her mood had worsened, too. I didn't notice, being too aimlessly angry for no reason. I was unreasonable, and stung. Was it my fault that my father was evil? Why was I evil because my father was evil? Why couldn't I be righteous because my mom was righteous? Questions like these popped up in my mind for the first time, and I was angry, so I voiced them, my pitch and volume rising with each question mark.

"Why, mom? Why am I evil because my father forced me on you? Why didn't you get rid of me if you really didn't want me?" I shrieked. Her eyes widened, but she answered me calmly, seeming almost to have rehearsed this answer.

"Because killing a gift of God is a sin, even if the gift was unwanted in the first place," she recited, angering me further with her composure.

"But I'm evil, so how am I a gift of God? What kind of God would give an innocent woman an evil child? Why would she be the victim of an evil pagan god?" I cried at her, realizing for the first time that perhaps I had been her divine punishment, that perhaps I was born to make her life terrible. Like Hell.

It was a very scary thought.

She was silent to these questions for a few moments, and I watched as her face morphed between a vicious animosity and a cool exterior. I had hit a nerve. As I'd hoped. She took a deep breath.

"We must not question our Lord, who works in mysterious ways. We must only know that everything that happens to us is for our own good, and to earn our place in heaven." I was furious. Why wasn't she reacting? Was I not good enough for a reaction? Did she think me a child? Was she even taking me seriously?

"Really? So, in other words, you don't know. You just let an evil man have his way with you because 'it's for your own good'? Are you-" She slapped me. For the first time in what felt like months, I was dropped from the force of a blow.

"That's enough from you. Go to your room and read you Bible if you want definite answers." she snapped, turning from me and beginning to walk away. I was getting up, shocked and angry still. She hadn't answered me at all. Why was I evil because of my father? Why was I the same as him even though I tried so hard not to be? What was I doing wrong? I didn't understand. It mad me so… angry! This was not the end of it! If everything happened for our own good, and if I was sent here to make my mom suffer, then suffer she would!

I stood up straight as she opened the door to her room, marched over, turned her around, and slapped her back. It was time to go forward with my purpose.


	2. Chapter 1 Quest

So, I've gotten two reviews so far - (though the count will only say one, as the other needed to be taken down and fixed. I must say I'm quite pleased with the results, as I have at least covered some holes, though I recognize the need for improvement still) - and I'm very excited! Thank you two for the help in improving my skills, and I hope I live up to your expectations!

This is a shorter chapter than the first, but it gets the ball rolling. For that not being done in the prologue, I apologize.

By the way, the diseases I'm using are legitimate plagues, according to NewsRX. I don't want to say more than that, to keep the surprises coming, but know that I've exaggerated them and accelerated them for the sake of the fact that this is fiction.

"Cassandra, daughter of King Priam of Troy.

Apollo fell in love with her

And gave her the Gift of Prophecy to win her favor."

~_Myth Encyclopedia, (.)_

She was screaming something. My mom. But I couldn't hear her anymore. The thought was echoing was louder. She was crying, screaming, begging for me to stop, but I couldn't hear her. The echoing was louder. She was screaming at me because my father's streak was showing through, hitting me back, grabbing a pan, but I didn't notice even as my gloves came off and I struck. The echoing was louder. And louder. Louder. Too loud.

* * *

I woke the next morning, and heard coughing in the next room, where my mother usually slept. I staggered to my feet, feeling dizzy, as though I had stood too quickly. A pang told me that the skillet lying next to me had probably been the cause of my unsteadiness and slight confusion. I put a hand to the hurt place on my head, but felt no blood. Only a sensitive spot that was probably a bruise. I was not angry anymore. I understood. My mom had protected herself from me and my devilish nature, from my father coming through me. I was intensely embarrassed and ashamed. I had succumbed to the evil of Satan, the evil of my father. How would I ever face her again?

The coughing continued, and I slowly began to worry for her. Was she alright? Had I used my gift on her? I couldn't remember. It had all gone by so fast, had all gone in such a blur. What was I going to do? Should I check on her?

Making my decision, and noticing my gloves on the floor, I sent up a quick prayer.

"Good Lord, please forgive me for what I've done, and please give me the strength to atone for it." I whispered, taking a deep breath and knocking on the door, walking in without waiting for an answer and bracing for the worst of it.

I think the worst thing of it is that nothing happened. My mom's coughing stopped for a bit, and when I could bring myself to look at her, I felt my face flush at the bruises on her sickly-pale face and arms. She was sweating, and blankets were piled on top of her. The hair on her arms stood on end, and her eyes were screwed shut as if in pain, one hand resting on her chest. She was sick. And it was my fault.

"God forgive me…" I found myself saying under my breath. The words just came out, and I felt tears prick my eyes in my typical over-reaction. She heard me, and opened her pained blue eyes, gazing at me warily. I walked over to her bedside, and knelt by her, hurt by the way she pulled away from me. "Mom, please forgive me…" I pleaded, trailing off as I saw the hopelessness in her eyes. "Mom, please. Please tell me what I can do. Please! I'll do anything! Just tell me…!" Her stony face revealed nothing. I looked away, wounded, and ran from her then, distressed and regretful of my actions. I flung myself down on my own bed, ignoring the responding ungrateful throbs of my head, and cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. And, at last, I slept.

__

"With two others you shall go East

To make your home with the one you love least.

To Half-Blood Hill you must traverse

Despite most people to you being averse.

Although you'll try, your quest will fail,

But with your true friends, in the end, you'll prevail."

I woke again with a start, looking up at my mother in her night gown, who collapsed into my arms the moment I saw her. Her legs were bruised pretty badly, and I wondered how she had even managed to come in here. She was coughing again, and I felt a sticky something on my hand as it slid across her face. It was gross, and stuck for a while, and I felt the urge to retch, though my stomach was empty, anyway. I wiped the yellow-green substance off on my pants, and heaved my mom back to her room, covering her heated, feverish form with the blankets, as she had them before.

Only then did I think of what she had told me. "_Go East._" Well, that was clear enough. But why would my mom want me to go east? I knew we lived I Pennsylvania, but where east should I go? New York? Why would my mom want me to go to New York, where my father and she were from? That place, she said, was the center of all the evil pagans, especially the Empire State building, where my father lived.

"_To Half-Blood Hill…_" Whatever that was. I didn't know. But east was definitely a direction. I could start with that.

Then again, she had also mentioned at one point that my father had claimed he could heal. Perhaps she wanted him to atone. Maybe he would. Maybe he would listen to his daughter! Yes! That was it! She wanted me to go to him for help!

But wouldn't that be going against God? I was confused. My mom would never go against God, even if it killed her. I was scared for her. She was sick, and it was my fault. Maybe I didn't have to go east. Maybe I could stay by her side and help her through this sickness that I caused, and maybe she would get better.

The image of the Cyclops I'd killed so long ago bursting into dust pervaded my brain, and I was frightened by it. And as her coughing began to follow her even as she slept, I left to get the bag she had taken with her to the Road to get my books.

An hour later, the essentials were packed: clothes, Bible, underwear, and pads for monthly bleeding. I didn't expect to be gone long, but you never know where God will take you or how long He will take. I had also found a wad of green paper within the bag that I thought was probably important, so I kept it separate in its own little pocket. Then came the less important things: soaps, socks, another pair of shoes, and some smoked venison wrapped in towels to keep it separate. That's all that would fit directly into the bag, but I put my pocket knife in my pocket and grabbed some rocks for future arrow-heads, putting them in a compartment on the bag. Then, I shouldered the pack, and was about to head out the door before I remembered that I should probably write a note.

"Dear mom,

I've gone to find father. Don't worry. I'll be fine. I know he lives in New Yrok and I'll be going there under God's protetcion. Everythnig will be alrihgt. I'm going to find one of my brohters or sisters who got father's healnig powres, and I'm going to get them to help you if he himself, won't.

I'll be home soon,

Kyle"

It read. Satisfied that it could be understood, I put it by her bed and almost walked out the door before again I'd realized I'd forgotten something: I didn't know where New York was! I turned around, ransacked the cabinets for a map, and found one that showed where I was headed. Mom had marked our place on the map when she'd first come here, before I was born, because she had needed outside help to get by, then. So I knew where I was, and I marked New York city with a big blue marker, finding a path following the roads all the way there. It looked like it wouldn't be far, but I had a feeling it would be my longest journey of all the ones to come.

I walked to the front door, bow and quiver slung over one shoulder, pack slung over the other. The wood of the porch gleamed in the moonlight, and suddenly I was afraid. I looked at the skull of the Cyclops, finding comfort in it, and grabbed it from its place on the window sill. I rubbed its bulbous smooth surface, tracing the hole where its eye had once been. I wanted to take it with me, but there was no room in the bag, and so I set it next to the doorway, a warning to any monsters that came here after me. I prayed to God that wouldn't happen, but then something occurred to me: God wasn't controlling the monsters. My father was.

I gulped. I had already sinned against God with my very existence, had sinned against Him with my passion, and had sinned against Him by killing. Should I add to the growing list of sin? Praying to my father for help would be inexcusable. Unforgivable. But then, what was my existence, if not the same? And I couldn't just let my mom die.

"Um, father?" I said aloud, unsure of how praying to other gods worked, or if it was just the same. "Um, I kind of need your help. I don't know your name or who you are, but I made mom sick and she said you have the power to heal, so…" I shifted my weight, nervous and unsure of whether or not he was even listening; it felt awkward standing alone on the porch in the middle of the night. "I don't know what I can give you for helping her. I don't really know what you want. In fact, I don't know anything about you except that you're a pagan god and are blond-haired and green-eyed. I can't do anything but hunt and hurt people, and I think I need your help. Could you please, please help mom? Please? Uh, well, that's all I have to say, so, um, bye." I stopped talking there. Well, that had been...odd. It was strange, but I didn't feel bad about that prayer at all. I even felt a warm glow inside that I immediately stifled and felt bad for. I prayed to God for forgiveness even though I knew it wouldn't be given, and prayed my hardest that mom would get better, and started off into the night.


	3. Chapter 2 City

Alright, now this was a hard chapter to write. I researched the place where Kyle is, but I've never been there, so if something's wrong or out-dated, I blame Google Maps, which gave me the directions. Please correct me, if it bothers you…

The design for the modern version of the monster involved came from the painting by James Draper. Please don't hound me about the mythology. I liked this form and description the best. Correct the mistakes, by all means, but simply point it out, and it will be fixed to the best of my ability.

* * *

I was lost. The map I had only had big roads, and no specific places except New York's cities. I headed to New York City, because some very nice people told me that was where the empire state building was. The kindly old lady had even driven me across the state line, taking me from a place called Williamsport all the way to Edison, New Jersey. She had given me strange looks at the sight of my bow and quiver and pack, but when I told her that I was looking for my father, her eyes had softened and she'd let me tell my story. At first she hadn't believed me, but when I told her my mom was sick and that she needed my dad's help, she hadn't laughed, and had taken me out to her car. When she told me what that was, she seemed really convinced, and had driven me as far as she could. It was dark when we stopped, and she had to go home, so she'd let me out on the side of the Road, but not before she'd told me the significance of the green paper I'd brought with me, and had told me I had brought 200 dollars. She'd given me fifty more, and had told me to find a hotel before she drove off. But I didn't know what a hotel was, so I'd just thanked her a lot and waved as she left, before I started walking.

The moon was full that night, and provided plenty of light, and I meekly thanked God for it, apologizing to Him profusely and begging for forgiveness, which I knew I didn't deserve. As I walked, I started feeling sleepy, which didn't surprise me. So, I strolled off the Road, and found a tree not too far away that I could sleep under. I laid down on my pack, and said my prayers one more time, and went to sleep with the strange new sounds of the town around me.

When I woke the next morning, I was stiff and sore, but I stretched a bit, and that made it better. I changed my clothes, and folded the dirty ones, putting them above the towel that separated my food and clothes. Then I helped myself to some of the venison for my breakfast, thanking God for my living through the night and thanking him for my food while I ate. Then I shouldered the pack, and went into town, where I asked a man how to get from here to New York. He looked at me strangely, just as the old lady had, but he told me to go to Edison Station and take the nine-thirty train to Newark. Then, he wrote down that I should take the WTC train, and said I could walk from there.

I was surprised that there were so many nice people in the world, but now that I think about it, a girl wearing gardening gloves with a pack and a bow and quiver slung over her shoulder is not something you want to see in your town, so he was probably glad I was just passing through.

I followed his directions to the station, and bought a ticket with the green paper - money. He gave me back more dollars that I hadn't seen yet, and some coins, and what I assumed to be a ticket. I took it, and sat down on a bench with a bunch of serious-looking people all around me. I didn't want to seem out of place, so I crossed my legs and studied the coins inconspicuously before putting them carefully back into my pack and watching people. My shirt wasn't too noticeable, since it was dark green, but my shorts were denim and above the knee, whereas everyone else seemed to be wearing pants of a material I'd never seen before.

Then, I heard the name of my train being called, and I picked up my things, along with a lot of the adults, and I followed them to the train. It was interesting, riding on the train. Everything seemed to move by so quickly, and yet I could still see everything. It was a nice, thirty-minute ride.

When I made the transfer, I almost didn't make it. Everyone was bigger than me and seemed to be caught up in themselves so much that I didn't exist to them. Thankfully, though, one of the passengers saw me reaching for the train and held the doors for me. When I scrambled on, panting, I thanked her profusely, and her strange gray eyes twinkled in welcome as she invited me to sit next to her. It was fantastic, our conversation, even though she had to correct me on some of the things I'd heard around me. God was watching over me, I think, because she gave me more extensive directions on how to get to the empire state building, and she told me about this summer camp, where she said I could stay if I didn't find my father on the first day. She said it was a safe place for young people, and I was very grateful for the direction. I thanked her again and again, but she only smiled and wrote down directions to the camp.

When I got off the train, I lost the woman in the crowd of people. But I didn't mind. I had the directions, and I could walk for a long time without being tired, so even if I got lost, all would be well.

I stepped outside of the train station, ready to find the Empire State Building, and stopped. I had never seen anything so big in my life. The buildings were bigger than the Cyclops, seeming to stretch up to heaven and impale the bottom of it. There were huge teeming masses of people everywhere, and no one seemed to see me. Not like the other towns. It was very frightening, and I prayed God wouldn't let me get lost in such a big town - no - city.

I walked down the steps of the station, being bustled along by various adults who seemed to be in a very big hurry for some reason. I thought I should hurry, too, because my mom did need my help. She was very sick and possibly dying, after all.

I took a left and started looking for street signs. I was looking for Fitfh Avenue. At least, that's what I read on the paper. What an odd name for a street.

"Fitfh Avenue, Fitfh Avenue…" I chanted to myself, looking around for it in random directions. I had found Fifth Avenue, but that wasn't what I'd read on my paper, so I thought it was wrong and went right past it.

I wandered around for a long time, eventually finishing my venison as I walked. I almost didn't notice the person following me because I was so caught up in my search. Then, I did notice, and I saw that she was not human. No, she was a monster. She wore fake snakeskin boots, a snakeskin suit, and a brown hat with a snake around it. At first, I thought she was a man, but then she smiled, and it was dazzling, despite the jagged teeth. I got nervous really quickly, but maybe I was just imagining things. None of the monsters that came to my house were ever this human-looking. I stopped, and waited. If she were a monster, she'd attack me. Instead, she walked up to me and took hold of my arm at the elbow, gently, as if she were my mom.

"Hey, there, hun. How ya doin' on this faahn day?" she greeted, sounding very strange. Was she from somewhere else?

"I'm doing good, thank you," I replied, trying to be polite despite the fact that I was unsure of this lady. Something was screaming at me to run, but I didn't. She laughed at my confused and unsure face.

"Oh, hun, I'm from Texas. Ain't ya ever heard of it?" she laughed. I blushed. Wasn't that really far south?

"Oh," was all I could think to say.

"Aw, hun, don't you mind. I'm here now, and I'll take care o' ya." she comforted, smiling and leading me down the sidewalk. Something was wrong.

"Uh, no thank you. I'll find my own way." I said, tugging on my arm, which I found was in a vice-grip. She only smiled, and I gradually began to panic.

"Aw, hun, it's faahn. You're lost, raaht? I'll show ya the way to where yer goin'." she soothed, walking a little faster. I dug my heels into the ground. This was not safe. Something was wrong here.

"No. I've got a map. I'll be fine. Please let go." I said, trying to be nice and praying to God that I could escape from this woman. Her head whipped around to look at me, and from under the brim of her hat, I could see that her eyes were yellow and slitted. She smiled at me, all sharp teeth and yellow eyes, and her face distorted into something ugly and evil. She was from my father, I realized.

I was about to scream when she yanked my arm hard, hurting it really bad and throwing me to the ground. She started dragging me, then, and I was shocked that no one seemed to notice. The wind had been knocked out of me, and I gasped, trying for air. _Oh, God, please help me escape from this monster._ I prayed.

Just then, a rock came flying out of an alley we passed. The snake woman hissed, her head whipping around to look for the assailant. Her tongue flicked out of her mouth, and I saw that it was forked. My jaw dropped, and I forgot to breathe. She really was a monster! A monster in human form! Was this what the Bible meant when it said that evil has many faces?

The woman's face began to morph at that moment, becoming hideous and twisting into something gruesome and disgusting. Her cheeks changes angles to point inwards, and I heard the popping and cracking as she changed. Her clothes were morphing, too, and then I realized that she was a python from the waist down. I screamed. She was by far the strongest monster I'd met.

She smiled down at me, almost kindly, but it was hideously distorted by the strange new angles of her face, and I noticed that her jaw had broken and widened, giving her a distorted look, like a snake in a bent mirror. I clamped my mouth shut in fear, and another rock hit the woman in the head. She hissed at the person, who stumbled out of the ally way, and I gasped.

It was a girl. A girl no older than me. She was rubbing her eyes sleepily, and even from where I sat on the ground, I could see the circles under her eyes.

"And alas, I've another task to perform before my monthly visit." she mumbled, picking up a garbage can lid and holding it like the shield of small Daniel. "Well, then, come on, Lamia. You'll have to fight for this one."

She snake woman hissed again, and threw me into the wall. Stars blackened my vision, and the sight of the moving-yet-congested traffic made my head spin. But something forced me to stay awake and not fall into unconsciousness. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the blackness, and saw that the girl was easily flipped onto her back by the great snake-woman. The woman laughed, a sound that reminded me of my mom's skillet when she made breakfast.

"I feast today!" the snake woman cried. I felt my eyes welling up with frustration. I was dizzy, and the girl who was trying to help me was in trouble. What was I going to do? Then I felt a bulge in my pocket.

"An' nothin's gonna stop me now! Not even Miss Haah-And-Mighteh on her peacock-lovin', brown-nosin', yella-bellied, cow-lahk--" I stabbed her with my pocket knife, cutting off her rant by piercing her back right between the shoulder blades. She hissed and roared, a strange, unnerving combination that sent chills down my spine.

"Wretch!" she yelled, whirling on me. "Why, yer no better 'n that prissy, haah-horse ridin'--" And again she was cut off, and then her head was gone. The girl had sliced it clean off with two very strange weapons. They were handles with small scythe blades sticking out of them! She pulled my knife out of the snake woman's back, and the body exploded into yellow powder, leaving only a long snakeskin behind. The girl handed me the knife, and the skin.

"'S yours. I don' wan' it." she slurred before her eyes rolled back in her head, and she was in my arms, asleep.

I liked her. Her hair was long and black, and her skin was tanned, brown like the light earth tones of dirt, and she was smaller than me, if only by a few inches. Her weapons clattered to the ground, but I laid her down and picked them up, putting them in what appeared to be their holsters. Then, I hefted her up, and put her on my back the way my mom used to carry me when I couldn't walk anymore. I owed her my life, after all, and I wasn't going to let her go just like that. No, I would hold onto her as tightly as Jacob held onto God. No matter how she fought, I wasn't going anywhere.

I picked up my bag, picked a direction, and started walking. "Fitfh Avenue…"


	4. Chapter 3 Found

So many reviews! My goodness! Thank you! I'm so very pleased and excited that I've become bubbly and giddy. I hope I can tone it down enough to remain in character, but please, by all means, let me know if I fail to do so. I don't like flames, but if you're mean about giving advice, my feelings won't be hurt. Bluntness is fine.

Also, just to ensure that there is as little confusion as possible: Yume is half-Japanese immigrant (on her mother's side) and Kyle doesn't know how to pronounce her name, and so instead of saying "Yoo-meh," she simply says "Yoom."

I think I'll actually have a quote for this one, as I seem to have forgotten it in the previous chapter…

* * *

"_There remains a considerable number of deities who never achieved anything more than local importance, some being narrowly circumscribed by their very nature and therefore barely capable of any development._" - Greek Religion, _Gods - part 3: The Lesser Gods_ by Walter Burkert

I never found Fitfh Avenue. So, I decided to make camp with the girl on my back and wait for her to wake up. When I found our spot behind some trash cans in an alley, I tried to make her comfortable before I went into another alley to change clothes and pad. _Thank You, God, for such light bleeding this month._ I prayed. I thought about that right after I did, though. Should I really be praying to Him when I'd done the unforgivable? I had prayed to the devil, my father, and had asked him for help. How could God forgive me for such a thing? I knew He couldn't. No one could. It was unforgivable. I ignored God's word fully knowing that I was. I only prayed for forgiveness after that, and prayed things would work out well, though who that was sent up to, I don't know.

I returned to our small camp, and found an intruder stoking a small fire in a trash can. I felt for my pocket knife, wary of human-looking monsters, now. Who was this boy?

He looked up from the fire, spotting me and smiling wickedly. He was sent from my father. Monster or no, this boy was trouble.

"Who are you?" I asked, slinking towards him very carefully. I glanced at the girl. Still safely asleep. His grin widened.

"I'm Darian Champion, son of Eris." I didn't know who Eris was, but I felt the need to do something similar.

"I'm Kyle, daughter of-" I paused, trying to remember her name, "Laurelee." He snickered.

"Do you have difficulty remembering your own mother's name? Or is she so ugly that she is seldom called upon?" I threw my knife at him and grabbed my bow and quiver, notching an arrow and taking aim. I fired, and the arrow burrowed itself into his shoulder. He cried out, and fell back. I ran around the trash can, intent on finishing him, but he was up and running faster than I could be. He broke the shaft, throwing it back at me and cursing as he left. Insult my mom, and then run away when the consequences come back at you? Coward. Then again, I supposed I couldn't count myself separate from that. I ran from my sick mom, didn't I?

The girl stirred in her sleep, and I noticed there was something laying on her arm. It was a letter, it seemed, but as I reached for it, my stomach growled. I would need to go find food. But, first, to at least read the outside. After all, I wanted to know her name. It read, "Aegnt Yume." No, "Agent Yume." Yoom. So that was her name.

With that in mind, I left the sleeping girl, foraging for food.

* * *

I had gotten the girl a sandwich from the shop I'd found, but it had been three hours since then, and I was still hungry, so I ate hers, deciding to buy one for her when she woke up, if she was hungry. Content that the fire was well-fuelled, and that she was comfortable and we were safe, I slept, bow in hand.

_It was bright in my dream, full of color and light. But nothing was clear. I heard a voice shouting my name in the distance. It sounded like a man. But that wasn't important. What was important was where I was. It was on top of a hill looking down at the blurry image of houses. Very small houses. And one big blue mass off to my left. I was in the shade, but I didn't know where I was. I stepped forward, walking down the hill, and looked for people. I couldn't see them very well, but there seemed to be some kind of game going on at the table._

_"Ridiculous! You managed to beat me again!"_

_"Mr. D, your restrictions-" Thunder rumbled in the distance._

_"Sorry, sorry!" It was a strange conversation to hear, and it didn't make sense, so I wandered over to the group of small houses._

_"Kyle...!" A distant call reached my ears as I got closer to the gold house in the group. There were people walking out of the cabins, but again, I could not see them clearly. Blond hair, orange shirt, blue pants, white ones. All passed by me in an unhurried blur._

_"Come on, Clarisse. Let's get the new kid."_

_"But that would be an illogical tactic! On Capture the Flag, I tell you we should-"_

_"Thanks for getting those sodas for me. Honestly, how do you guys do it?"_

_"So how's your new piece coming? You worked in a counter-melody yet?"_

_All were things I heard from the crowd, but still nothing made sense. I felt a strange urge to go into the gold house, and I stepped forward, only to find my shoulders being shaken._

"Wake up, kid." a voice spoke in my ear. My eyes flew open, and I grabbed the arms of the person shaking me. It was a man in black with a strange hat on. Another was shaking the girl beside me. I leaned over to grab him and stop him.

"No. She needs to sleep. She hasn't slept in a month." I said, shaking my head to clear the fog of sleep. I yawned, and looked around. It was morning, and people were running on the paths through the park. The men in front of me had weapons on their belts. The one who had been shaking her let go, and both looked at me like I was the strange one.

"Okay, then. What's your name, kid?" the one who had been shaking me asked, looking me over as if I could be dangerous. I wasn't wearing a gun at my belt, and he thought I was dangerous?

"My name is Kyle Marie Baker." I introduced. "What's your name?" His lips quirked into a smile, and he looked at his partner, who was watching me with too-interested eyes.

"You can call me Fred." the first one said with a mischievous glint in his eye. He had black hair peppered with gray, and a grin that said he was up to no good. The second rolled his eyes at that, and leaned down to pick the girl up.

"Okay, what's the problem, Mr. Fred?" I asked, sensing that something was not quite right with these two. I found myself looking at the second man, noticing his light-colored hair and green eyes. He watched me closely, but didn't say anything.

"Well, you see, it's not safe for kids like you to sleep on the streets," he started, putting a hand on my shoulder and guiding me out of the alley. The other followed closely behind with a sleeping Yoom. "So, we thought we could help you by taking you to a safer place."

"A place like where?" I was wary. The last person who offered to take care of me in any way turned out to be evil. Who were these men, and why were they wearing all black?

"A place like a summer camp for those who need help making it in the world. Do you think you need help making it?" He was watching me out of the corner of his eye, and I had a feeling there was a right and wrong answer to this question.

"I think I need help finding my father, at least. He lives in New York, I know, but he's the only one who can save my mom. She's sick, and he can heal." The other one stiffened for a moment, but said nothing and kept up with us. The first smiled, and looked into the street, holding his hand up. A car appeared, almost as if out of nothingness, and he opened the door for me.

"I think this place can help with that."

* * *

The second one drove while the first one talked to me. What was my mom like, did I know who my father was, how far away from home was I, and so on. I answered all of them, reserved and nervous at first, but then more and more relaxed at the conversation went on. Eventually, we started talking about archery, and the driving one seemed to relax a bit, like he wasn't completely disappointed. This made me feel better, for some reason.

It felt like I talked for hours, telling him about how to make shafts and arrow heads and bows. I told him how to feather an arrow and notch it and how the weather factors into the direction of the arrow, and he seemed politely interested, but really just happy that I was talking. When I finally stopped, embarrassed, the driver spoke for the first time.

"Don't forget that rain also makes the arrow heavier, so you have to string the bow more tightly." he said. His voice was very nice, and I like listening to it. It made me feel like he was saying something important.

"Yeah, but you normally wouldn't go hunting in the rain because it's hard to see." I answered. "At least, I've never had to go out at that time." He pulled over to the side of the road, and looked straight ahead.

"You might have to soon." Then the other man turned back to look at me and the girl.

"Well, girls, this is your stop. Take care of each other, will you?" I looked out the window, and saw a hill with a tree at the top. Something was familiar about it.

"But this is just a hill," I objected.

"Go up the hill, and you'll see it." he said. I looked at him, unsure, and then prayed to God that he was telling the truth as I stepped out of the car, pulling the girl with me.

I hoisted her onto my back, and trekked up the hill, turning to wave goodbye at them only to find that they were gone. I looked down past the tree, and saw a scene that tugged at my memory.

It was a big blue house on the left, a field of plants toward the sea, and a bunch of small houses in a 'U' shape to my right. Something was familiar, but I didn't know why, so I stood there, trying to figure it out. The girl got to be pretty heavy, so I put her down and propped her against the tree, only to find a huge gold lizard looking at me. There was a golden piece of what looked almost like fur behind it, but the lizard paid it no mind, sniffing me and the girl over before nodding and turning away. I was so shocked and scared at that moment, that I didn't know what to do.

"Hey!" came a voice from over my shoulder. I whirled around, reaching for an arrow and notching it as I located the potential danger to me and the girl. The boy who had called held up his hands in surrender, his blue eyes watching me.

"Who are you?" I asked, suddenly feeling brave.

"That's what I came here to ask. Usually, people don't hover on the hill, but come _in _to Camp Half-Blood, so I was wondering if something was wrong." I looked him over. About fourteen years old, brown sandals and khaki shorts. Orange shirt that had some riddling text on it that I didn't go to the trouble of puzzling out. Tanned from the sun. Light-colored hair. Bow slung over his shoulder. He was armed.

"We're here because someone told us this was a safe place." I said, watching him.

"And it is, so long as you don't point weapons at people." He smiled. "I'm Elijah. What are your names?"

"I'm Kyle. She can tell you her name if she wants to when she wakes." I didn't trust this boy. He looked far too mischievous, but he nodded, picking Yoom up as if she were delicate like glass. I prayed to God she was safe in his arms.

"Come on. I'll show you around, newbies." Newbies? Was that even a word? What did it mean?

But he was already off, walking down the hill with an easy air, and I had to follow him or be left behind, so I scurried after him_._


	5. Chapter 4 Camp

I'm sorry I'm so late! I know I promised it over a month ago, and so I hope it is to your satisfaction! Thank you all for reviewing! Your support has been most appreciated!

"_The dragon fight is a freely transferable motif; the name and even sex of the dragon are variously recorded; the version which eventually gained currency named the serpent Python, a son of Earth and Lord of Delphi until killed by the arrows of Apollo."_ - Greek Religion, _Gods, part 2: Individual gods_, Walter Burkert

* * *

It was strange, the words he used. He told me that this was a place for half-bloods, or children of the gods. When I told him my father was a healer and why I was here, he was silent for a moment before he switched the subject. He said we should be safe here, and that usually no monsters entered that were not meant to.

"Now, normally, you would sleep in the cabin of your godly parent, but as your father has not claimed either of you, you'll be sleeping in the Hermes Cabin. He's the god of travelers and hospitality, after all." I almost corrected him, wanting to tell him that while they thought themselves god over something, there was actually only one true God who controlled everything; but instead, I stayed quiet, feeling that this would be the wrong person to say that to. I had never felt such a thing before, but I decided not to question the feeling.

He led us to the cabin with a hospital sign on top, and I pointed it out to Elijah, asking if Hermes was also the god of healing. He laughed, making me blush, but said no, that was just a sign of hospitality that clinics and such adopted. It was weird. Then, as I was walking in, I heard something that was definitely something I'd heard before:

"Come on, Clarisse. Let's get the new kid." The words echoed in my head as I froze on the stoop, tingling with the knowing of what was about to happen. There would be a fight, and I would lose. I would struggle, and get in one good hit, and then it would be over. It would start with a hand on my right shoulder.

As if one cue, a hand fell into place on my shoulder, and I whirled around, striking out with my gloved hands and landing my one solid blow to the malicious-looking boy who touched me. That was it. I was down and out.

When I woke up, I was hurt all over, and I was alone. Well, except for the sleeping girl. It seemed that everyone else had left, and when I looked outside, I saw them all up at what the boy had told me was the dining pavilion. I considered going up there to join them, but I decided after a while to just stay put. After all, I was in pain, and I wasn't very hungry. I could last until morning without food. I would be fine.

Instead, I stood, and checked myself for injuries. My head was bruised from my run-in with the snake-monster-lady, my stomach was bruised all over from my beating earlier, and my arms and legs were smattered with black, blue, and brown spots. I felt my right cheek, and it was swollen, and my left eye was slightly bruised, itself. But it wasn't quite swollen shut. Overall, not life-threatening, though I'd never been beaten like _that_ in my life. It would take a while for me to heal.

"Ah. So you're awake." My attention snapped to the door, where a blond girl with green eyes looked in at me. The sudden movement hurt, and I flinched, but she just walked in and started feeling me over, making the bruises hurt worse.

"Hey! Stop that!" I cried, trying to escape her firm grip as she sat me down.

"Be still or this will hurt more. I'm trying to heal you." I stopped struggling the moment she said that. Heal me?

"Can you heal sickness?" I blurted as the pain in my arms and legs lessened.

"Be quiet," she ordered as she moved to my face, touching the wounds with such a gentleness that I couldn't speak, even if I'd wanted to. Eventually, she pulled back, and I felt much better.

"Thank you." I said after a moment of silence.

"You're just lucky I was here in camp instead of home with my mother. The monsters don't usually target me, but now they're going after all of the healers, trying to make them switch sides. It's really annoying, but I have to stay here, so I guess I'll deal with it." She tossed her long hair out of her face, and moved to sit in front of me.

"Could you cure my mother? She's sick somehow and I don't know how to fix her. That's why I came here. To find a healer. So can you fix her? Please?" I needed to know. Could she fix my mother? Could she help her?

The girl blinked a moment, and seemed to think.

"Is she nearby? If she's in New York, I could probably help. I've never taken on anything more than the common cold, but I could at least try…?" I was excited at first, but then her condition sunk in.

"Um, we live in Pennsylvania. Is that too far?" I asked, biting my lip. This girl was my only hope of making my mom better, unless I decided to go back and try to find my father again. The memory of the snake-lady came to mind, and I shuddered. No. The city was off-limits. Her face mirrored mine.

"Yeah. That's way too far. We couldn't get that far without being attacked by monsters, and even if you could offer protection, we probably couldn't get permission." she said, and I saw that she was sorry. I tried not to be angry with her.

"Well, is there anyone else who could go? Isn't there any way my mom can be saved?" I asked, standing up and starting to pace.

"No, you couldn't get permission even if you had willing healers and warriors." she told me. I punched the wall, ignoring the pain in my hand as I did.

"My mom needs help! She's _dying_! And it's _my _fault if no one saves her! There's no one else who will! She needs a healer!" I yelled at her, losing my temper and trying to avoid hitting her. She didn't need to suffer the same fate as my mom. But then, perhaps if I did she would understand how much my mom needed help? Maybe…?

The girl was quiet for a while, before she finally said, "I'm sorry." She stood, and grabbed my hand, pulling splinters out and healing with her touch. "I would go with you, but you'll have to get permission from Chiron and Mr. D. If you can do that, we'll see if I can heal your mom." I frowned, but didn't yell anymore, and I wouldn't cry when it wasn't over yet. As she left, she paused, looking at something.

"Where'd you get that snakeskin?" she asked. I looked at the souvenir from the snake lady, and picked it up.

"This snake-lady attacked us on the way here. Yoom and I killed her, for now." I told her, gesturing to Yoom with my head. The girl bit her cheek, and I saw the greed in her eyes.

"That would be very valuable in my cabin. Our father, Apollo, is called the Python Killer. He freed a city from the terrible Python with his bow." she informed me.

"Well, this one wasn't Python. I think Yoom called her Lamia, or something." The girl's eyes flashed, and she smirked and rolled her eyes.

"Did she complain about Lady Hera?" she asked. I furrowed my brow, thinking.

"No. But she did call someone a peacock-lover, which I thought was weird." The girl laughed, and smiled at me.

"Yup. That was Lamia. She never forgave Hera after she killed her children." I gasped.

"Why would she do that?" I was shocked. Why would anyone kill the innocent?

"Because Hera is Zeus's wife, and they were Lamia's and Zeus's children." My jaw dropped. No wonder they hated each other. So much sin surely leads to corruption of the soul! That must be why it's so important not to do it!

I prayed to God that I would never do that to Him, or to my husband. No, I definitely would not do that, and I swore I would never kill the innocent. I would defend them and pray for all of them. God, forgive them.

After she left, I laid down, thinking about those women and Zeus, the husband. Why would he not be loyal to his wife? Didn't he love her? Or was he like my mother, just in the wrong place at the wrong time?

I prayed to God that all of these questions would be answered tomorrow, and then I drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 5 End and Beginning

Thank you all so much for your continuing support! I am pleased to note that things are finally starting to happen, and we'll have a more developed and (hopefully) more complicated plot coming soon! By the way, I apologize for some of the lack continuity within some of this, especially as I seem to have somehow managed to edit out an important scene within chapter three (recorded as chapter four - Found)…! If you please, go back to it and re-read it so that we're all clear on how 'Yume' was mistakenly read as 'Yoom.' I deeply apologize for my carelessness!

Also, it has been brought to my attention the Apollo has blue eyes, and not green. As a response to this, I must express my disappointment at this mistake. However, if only for the sake of continuity, I will keep Kyle's looks the same. Perhaps I can make modifications further on, but for now, my apologies will have to suffice. I apologize for the inaccuracy!

* * *

"_O Phoebus, from your throne of truth,_

_From your dwelling-place at the heart of the world,_

_You speak to men._

_By Zeus's decree no lie comes there,_

_No shadow to darken the world of truth." __Mythology__, Part One - The Gods: Apollo, Edith Hamilton_

The next morning, I went with everyone else to breakfast. At first I was shy and didn't know what to say to people my own age, but soon I figured out that we were all just friends who had immoral parents. We were all related, all family. God says "Love thy brother." So I tried my best to get along with everyone, even the mean ones. They were, after all, still family. Elijah even introduced me to a couple of nice people named Celia Jones and Jacob Thompson. They were in the same cabin as me, and the same age.

But, while I liked most of the people I met, my mom was still close to my mind as we offered up the sacrifice to God. It was weird, Elijah trying to explain it to me. I didn't understand, if we were abandoned, why we had to thank our absent parents. But then I remembered the guilty feeling of warmth after I had prayed to my father, and I figured everyone else felt that, too, when they sacrificed to their pagan parents. So, I threw in the biggest piece of meat I had, just like Elijah, and I sent it up to my father specifically, so that I could also pray for my mom's health. The fire sent up the smell of something so sweet I almost choked, but then I was pushed out of the way by the next person, one of my meaner relatives.

After breakfast, I went to the man with a horse's lower body, and looked up at him. He looked down at me and smiled, and I liked him. He seemed nice. Very trustworthy, though a little weird in looks. God makes all of His creatures as he sees fit, so it's okay.

"Good morning," the man-horse greeted. I smiled.

"Good morning. I'm Kyle." He returned the smile.

"And I'm Chiron. It's a pleasure to meet you." I bit my lip, wondering how to phrase my question. I didn't want to be mean or rude. But he seemed to notice, and he smiled like he knew what I was thinking. After that, my question just came out.

"Um, I'm sorry if it's not a very nice question, but, um, well, what are you?" My face was heating up. I was embarrassed, but I wanted to know, so I ducked my head without running away. Much to my embarrassment, he laughed a little before he spoke.

"Well, Kyle, I'm what they call a centaur. I am a human-horse hybrid, a mix of the two, and I am the activities director here at Camp Half-Blood. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me." His answer was nice, and he seemed to be pretty nice, too, so I asked my next question.

"Um, okay, then, can I go home?" He frowned, and his tail swished as he stirred.

"Why would you want to go home so soon after reaching safety, Kyle?" he asked. I shifted my weight, feeling ashamed. My cheeks flamed a brighter shade of red.

"Well, my mom's sick, and it's my fault, so I came out looking for a healer." I told him. "And I think she's dying."

He stared down at me for a long time, but I didn't look up at him, scared he would see the guilt of sin on my face. He reminded me of John the Baptist, a devout follower and a trustworthy man who never lied if he could help it. I didn't want him to hate me.

"Well, I won't promise you, but I will talk it over with Mr. D. He's the camp director. You will at least have an answer by the end of the week. But until then, just try and settle down and make some friends. I hear you've traveled a long way. So, for now, try to enjoy camp life. Okay?" I looked up at him, tears filling my eyes._ Thank you, God, for giving me a chance._ I thought, rubbing my eyes and trying not to cry. I nodded.

"Okay. I'll wait. Thank you, Mr. Chiron! Thank you so much!" He smiled again, and shooed me away, and I joined my brothers and sisters and cousins as they milled off to various camp activities. Seeing Celia and Jacob waving to me, I ran to join them, and we all headed off to go canoeing.

* * *

Three hours later, and I was still drenched from the river. It turned out that I was incredibly sensitive to motion sickness, even in the river, and while I didn't quite lose my lunch, I did come close to fainting several times, which led to me weight shifting, and so we all ended up in the water. Celia wasn't too happy about that, especially since she'd done her makeup so well this morning, but I said I was sorry, and she said it was okay. Jacob just shook it off and tried again. He seemed to be a very quiet person.

Now, we were done with crafts, and I was done with things sticking to me because I was wet. I was frustrated, and I wanted to be good at _something._ However, now it was the time to head to the archery range. Finally.

My cabin-mates and I all got our bows and arrows, and we lined up at the targets. I took aim, and fired, missing the center by less than half an inch.

"You should raise your elbow a bit." Said a voice over my shoulder. I turned, and there was a fair-haired boy with stern-looking blue eyes. He came over, and tapped my elbow up a bit, adjusting my stance as well, and said, "Now try."

I fired. Dead center. I fired again. The first bull's-eye split. And again. And again. And again. Stepping out of my stance, I nodded, looking over at the older boy.

"Thanks," I told him. He nodded, moving on to the next camper and fixing his stance, too. Celia whistled behind me.

"Man, Kyle, I didn't know you could shoot like that." she said, looking at her flawless nails. "I've never really liked this sport, though." I blushed, embarrassed by her comment on my shooting.

"Well, I kind of hunt a lot, so a still target isn't as hard to hit for me." I told her. She glanced sideways at me, and then raised an eyebrow.

"Say, Kyle, do you have blond hair when it's grown out?" she asked. I frowned, unsure.

"I don't know. I've never grown it out before." I confessed. At that, she looked alarmed.

"What? You mean you've never seen blond hair before you got here? Hair the color of that boy's just now?" I blinked, looking after him and shaking my head.

"Not on my head," was the honest answer. She looked appalled, and immediately came over to rub the tiny prickle of hair on my head. I laughed.

"Hey, that tickles!" I protested, slapping her hand away. She laughed, as well, but still looked sad.

"Well, at least you'll get to see your hair in full soon enough. Then you'll be _really_ popular." I didn't really get why she would say that, but I laughed and forgot it. Some things Celia said just didn't make sense.

* * *

Like that, five days passed. I was happy, learning more about my family and coming to terms with our pagan parents. After all, even though I wanted to follow God without fail, I had already offended him in the highest degree. I had prayed to another god, and on multiple occasions. For such a high crime, there would be no forgiveness. Still, I tried not to think about it, or my mother, and I just kept smiling. Two more days, and I would get my answer. I prayed to Father for the best. But then, it happened.

There was this girl who just fell into camp one morning. I woke up, having a bad feeling, and ran outside. The sky was dark, but I found my eyes drawn to the hill, where I saw her fall. Of course, I sent up a prayer to God without even thinking, and grabbed a blanket, running as fast as I could to get to her. It took me about a minute, and I was panting by the time I got to her.

Her hair was dark with dirt, and it looked and smelled like she hadn't bathed in days. I almost gagged from the stench of blood on her, but I wrapped her up, anyway.

"Help!" I screamed. "Someone's hurt! Help! Man down at the borders of camp!" I tried to drag her away, but then I saw the red seeping through the blanket. I decided not to move her anymore, and left her there, running down the hill to the Apollo Cabin. I banged on the door.

"Wake up! There's someone hurt at the camp lines! She's bleeding and she's not moving! Hurry up and come out!" There was stirring inside, and then the lights went on, and someone answered the door, looking wide awake.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and I recognized her as the one who had healed me before.

"There's a girl at the border, and she's really hurt! She's not moving!" And she was out the door without even regard for the fact that she wore only a T-Shirt and boxers in the middle of winter. She was followed closely by two boys who held first-aid kits, and I blushed as they ran past me: they weren't wearing shirts!

A few others within the cabin ran out to the Big House, though they at least wore bathrobes. One girl cam out to make sure I wasn't hurt, and I told her I was fine. Soon, the whole camp was awake, and Chiron was galloping up the hill to the place where the girl was. He and the healers stayed up there for quite a while, until long after it was officially breakfast. Of course, during our meal, not many ate, and most of us just looked up to where the girl was.

"I heard it was Cassidy."

"Cassidy Blake? The daughter of Aphrodite?"

"Yeah, didn't she go on a mission to find out why-"

"She was with James from Hephaestus and Mike from Ares."

"She's the only one who came back."

The whispers were everywhere. I felt awful, and prayed all day for poor Cassidy Blake. I prayed that God would send me a sign of forgiveness in the form of her living, and I did not eat or move all day. I even considered praying to my father for a bit, but knew he wouldn't help. Not if he really was like my mom said.

It was sunset when Chiron and the healers came down, though they went to the Big House, and Chiron came to the Amphitheater, where most people still lingered. As he approached, the whole camp gathered, waiting with baited breath. Still, his expression was solemn as he announced:

"Cassidy Blake has died of her wounds. It seems she was assaulted with what seems to be a large stinger. We assume the culprit to be Brize, who may have reincarnated by now. It is assumed, from Cassidy's final words that James and Mike-" His voice broke. "Michael are dead, as well. Funeral shrouds will be made for them by their respective cabins, and a funeral and memorial services will be held the day after tomorrow. For those of you who want to go on missions or leave camp, I have made an executive decision to cease all missions for at least another few weeks. Mr. D and I will discuss this unexpected turn of events, and will come to a final decision three days from now. Good evening, all." He left for the Big House in total silence, and I finally unfolded my hands, which were marked from my constant prayer. I looked around.

It seemed like everyone had been praying, trying their hardest to plea with their parents, the Fates, God, anyone, that somehow Cassidy Blake might live to see another dawn. Still, no one cried, too down heartened and depressed to even do that. I felt it in the air. No one was happy to see her go. No one was happy that I had found her when I did, if only to give her these few more hours of breath. Depression hovered over everyone like a storm cloud, and so the campfire that night showed with very little spirit, if at all, burning a dull purple. Only Celia seemed to be in her prime, talking about how fantastic Cassidy had been before. She told stories about her, making Cassidy out to be the hero that she may or may not have actually been. But I didn't listen much.

I stared down at my gardening gloves, feeling the numbness in my hands where my fingers had pressed tightly against each other all day. I felt lost. Had God truly forsaken me? A sinner who could not be faithful to him? The daughter of Satan, a pagan god of healing that did no such thing. Truly, I was undeserving of mercy. _Still,_ I thought as tears rolled down my cheeks, _To punish her for my disobedience, because I asked for it to be a sign. God, You have answered my prayers in a way that I cannot help but feel bitter about._ The tears were slow and few, at first, and then became more numerous and fast-flowing as my sadness settled in. _If I had only been a little faster. If I had only gone to the Apollo cabin first._ If only, if only, if only. This was partially my fault. It was partially the healers' fault. It was partially my father's fault. But, most importantly, it was entirely God's fault. I stood, and walked away from the fire, angry and upset and confused. If not for me, then at least for her, could He not show the compassion He told us to show to all beings of the Earth? I reached the sea, and yelled out my fury.

"God, why?" The waves crashed against the shore. "Why could you not give me this _one_ thing? _Why?_" I was crying harder, now, and hiccupped as my breath hitched. "If not me, then save _her_! I just wanted…!" I fell to my knees, sobbing into my hands. "I just wanted to be forgiven…" I moaned to the world, adding my tears to the salty sea, which absorbed them easily, washing them out to open water as though they'd never fallen. Over and over, the waves did this, until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked over, startled, and saw Yoom standing there, looking sad.

"I know how hard death can be on the living." she told me, sitting down on the beach next to me. "But don't worry. She'll be taken care of." She put a hand on my shoulder, and I leaned on the one who saved my life.

"But _why_? Why would God _do_ such a thing?" I sobbed.

"It's just what has to be. We live, we die, we go to the afterlife. It's the way things work in this world." She was so calm, so kind, and I cried harder.

"But-" I couldn't talk past the lump in my throat, so I just cried and cried and cried. She sat there with me, holding me and letting me release my feelings of failure and then comforting me when, at last, my tears had dried up.

"Don't think that you're any less loved just because one person died. I did that once, and if my uncle hadn't told me that we're all just slaves of the Fates, I wouldn't be here. It's okay. You've just got to pick yourself up and open your eyes." She stood up, and I righted myself before I fell, wiping my eyes with the back of my now-sandy hands. Then, I looked up, and saw a magnificent ship. At least, I thought it was a ship. It looked like the pictures my mom had showed me, but more…modern, somehow.

"What's _that_?" I asked, awed by its magnificence.

"That, Kyle, is our ticket out of here. This way, we can go and save your mom, okay? I know someone who can help you." My jaw dropped at the hope that suddenly filled me, and I turned to her.

"Oh, you mean it? But wait, then I have to go get my stuff!" She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb, and I turned to look, only to see my backpack sitting there already, snakeskin tied around the middle of it already.

"You should probably wear that snakeskin, somehow. It would make a good bandana, you know." She showed me how to put it on, and then I had a new head-cover to keep my head from being too cold. I smiled at her.

"Well then, let's go!" I said, smiling at my friend. She smiled back, and whistled. Two creatures with dog heads and seal flippers for arms popped up onshore, and I gawked. However, Yoom just smirked at me.

"You can ride one of those so long as you stop calling me 'Yoom.' My name's Yume." At that moment, there on the beach as we smiled at one another, our adventure together truly began.


	7. Chapter 6 The Ship

Thank you all for continuing to enthusiastically support my attempts at fan-fiction! I am deeply grateful for this!

Also, I have discovered as I've written than I never mentioned Lamia's colors. Her snakeskin, in my imagination, looks to be something like a corn snake. (Red-brown spots on brown scales.)

Yet another flaw with my story has now been called to my attention, and I now inform you that Yume's name is pronounced: YOO-meh (with the stress on the first syllable.) I'm so sorry for the confusion, and will try to do better in the future! Thank you all for reading!

* * *

"The Titans, often called the Elder Gods, were for untold ages supreme in the universe.

They were of enormous size and of incredible strength.

here were many of them, but only a few appear in the stories of Mythology.

The most important was Cronus, in Latin Saturn." _Mythology__, Part One - The Gods: The Titans and the Twelve Great Olympians, Edith Hamilton_

We climbed on-board the ship, which was called the Princess Andromeda, Yume told me, and were immediately greeted by a cute boy with blond hair and mischievous eyes. I blushed and tried to straighten my sopping wet clothes, but Yume didn't even react to him, yawning and stretching before she spoke and showing no regard for the state of her clothes.

"Hello, Luke," she greeted with a sleepy smile. He returned the expression cheerily, and opened his arms to her.

"Welcome back, Yume!" he said, wrapping her up in a quick hug. "How did the mission go?" Her smile did not falter, and she glanced at me meaningfully. I deeply wished I were already dry, but he didn't seem to notice, holding out his hand to me almost immediately.

"I'm Luke Castellan. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Kyle Marie Baker." I told him, wanting to make sure he knew I was a girl. I suddenly felt very aware of how little hair I possessed, and I didn't actually have much by way of a figure. His smile almost faltered, but then he smirked.

"Well, Kyle Marie Baker, welcome aboard the Princess Andromeda. I hope you enjoy your stay here, and I'm pleased to inform you that you're completely welcome anywhere onboard, excepting the captain's quarters, and wherever else Yume points out to you. We'll introduce you to our captain tomorrow, so get some sleep, okay?" He was so kind and sincere that I forgot my self-consciousness, and nodded eagerly.

"The captain will tell us whether or not we can help your mom, Kyle." Yume told me over Luke's shoulder. "Now come on. I'll show you to our bunk, and you can hit the hay." I beamed at them, and took Yume's offered hand, following her into the bowels of the smooth-sailing ship with little heed to my own motion sickness.

Unfortunately, after the first flight of stairs, I was feeling the effects of my condition quite a bit, and almost fell over in my nausea.

"Ah, you've got motion sickness, right?" I nodded mutely, trying to resist the urge to throw up.

"I'll go get some medicine for that." And she left me there on the floor by the stairs, where I sat and tried to stay still despite the constant rocking motion. Soon enough, my vision was swimming, and I grabbed onto the railing, trying to keep myself still.

"What'sss thissss?" a voice hissed from above me. Lamia's face appeared in my mind's eye, and I wanted to panic, but I was too scared to move: I might get sick, and then I would have to explain everything to Yume or Luke. Or, worse, Luke might see me do it! I had to stay still, no matter what!

"A Chiiild?" I heard slithering to my right, and dimly noted that a snake woman with the upper-body of a lady loomed over me. "How delicccioussss…" she hissed, her tongue flicking out to lick my shoulder.

"You wear the ssscalesss of Laaamiaaaa…" she sneered, "And yet you are rendered immobile ssso quicklyyy…." I felt her tongue again, and shuddered, afraid.

"Scythia, back off." Yume's voice cut into the snake-lady's hissing fit, and I felt the presence lift off of me, growling deep in her throat like a monster before the slithering left me alone. Then, Yume was there.

"You attract a lot of snakes, you know that?" she said, pulling something out of the box she'd brought.

"These are motion sickness patches. They should keep you from getting too sick." She stuck a couple on me, one behind each ear, and waited for me as I slowly got my bearings back. The feeling of nausea soon subsided, and I let go of the railing, standing slowly just in case the sickness flared up again.

"Who was that?" I asked, and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, it's Scythia, one of the Scythian dracanae. She just re-spawned, so she's really hungry, and she thinks anything just sitting there must be for her. Our room is this way." And she started walking. I trotted to catch up with her.

"Well, what does she eat?" I asked. She glance back at me, as if she was unsure, but then she decided to answer.

"Human meat." We were silent, after that, and then we were at our room.

"Okay, so it's a little smaller than what you might be used to, but it's comfy. You can just plop down wherever, and get some rest. We'll talk to Kro-the captain tomorrow morning after breakfast. Okay?" She opened the door, and I saw a well-furnished, soft-looking hole that was about Luke's arm-span across and three step to the back. I blushed at the memory of Luke, but felt proud that I hadn't thrown up. I walked in, stepping on piles of blankets and pillows, and Yume stayed in the doorway, leaning against the side.

"Not too shabby, huh?" she affirmed, smirking. I looked at her with bewildered eyes, and smiled.

"It's fantastic! Where did you get all of these things?" She shrugged, and frowned, as if remembering something unpleasant.

"Yeah, well, my dad's Morpheus. One of the three gods of dreams? Yeah, most people don't know, but there are three. Morpheus is the god of the people you see in your dreams. His two brothers, Icelos and Phobetor, monitor the animals and scenery and stuff. They're sons of Hypnos, the god of sleep, and Grandpa likes to dote, so he gives me all of this in hopes that someday I'll sleep away like all the rest of his and Morpheus's kids."

"You call your father by his first name?" Her eyes met mine, and I saw that she was very bitter and angry, like me, with her pagan parent.

"I call my father Dad only when he is present, and only out of respect for his wishes." And she stood up straight. "Goodnight, Kyle. Sleep well." And she closed the door tight.

* * *

The next morning, I woke late, and felt a little sick. So, I switched the patches quickly, and then got up, ready to have breakfast. Yume opened the door as I got up, and she held up some clothes.

"For you. Bathroom's down the hall, first door on your left." And she smiled mockingly. "Get out of that stupid orange. It looks obnoxious." I looked down at the glaring color, but I hadn't really minded it. The orange reminded me of the pictures of hunters my mom showed me. She said they always wore orange because the animals couldn't see it but the people could. I smiled, anyway.

"Yeah, I guess it does look silly," and I took the clothes from her. She closed the door, and I changed into the brown pants and dark red shirt. It matched the brown snakeskin perfectly, and I wondered what I looked like. So, I headed down the hall, as Yume had directed, and walked in, finding a mirror that showed my profile.

I looked like a different person than the one who left my house only nine days ago. Or was it ten? The memory just seemed so distant. It was hard to remember. But now, I had a little bit of stubble on my head. My hair was beginning to grow in to be fair, and I put the red-brown snakeskin over it like a bandana, making my eyes seem greener next to it. My skin was a little more tanned because I'd never slept outside before, and my face was a little thinner. I had only eaten well the last few days. Before that, I had looked well-fed no matter what had happened, since my mom had always managed to make things filling and lasting.

Still, I looked good. Better than I ever remembered looking. I scolded myself for my vanity. _Looks don't matter in the eyes of the Lord, Kyle._ I reminded myself, nodding to my reflection and then turning to the toilet to finish up.

When I came out, Yume was waiting for me, almost napping.

"Took you long enough. I was worried you'd gone Narcissus in there or something." I looked at her, confused, and she shook her head. "Never mind. Let's go meet breakfast, and then I'll introduce you to our leader." I smiled at the idea, and followed her happily to the Cafeteria.

There were so many monsters when we first arrived that I stopped in the doorway, frightened. Had we been led into a trap? Had _I_ been led into a trap? Yume had seemed human. Had she fooled me? Had she been plotting with Lamia this whole time? Had she-

"It's okay, Kyle. They're on our side. Don't be nervous." She took my hand, and I followed her, watching the bronze-and-goat-legged women, the women who looked like Scythia, and the big Cyclopes and other monsters. One of the snake-women hissed in my general direction, and I figured that must have been Scythia. The other women around her, with their trays of well-done and raw steaks, flicked their forked tongues at me, as well, giving me the impression that none of them liked me.

Yume led me to the breakfast line, and told me what to do, since I had never been to a cafeteria before. I followed her down the line, too, grabbing eggs and bacon and sausage, all of which were precious in my home.

Of course, the thought of home reminded me of my purpose, and I did my best to finish my food quickly. Yume didn't eat much, herself, grabbing only some yogurt and cereal, and finished only a minute before I did. Naturally, when I did finish, I felt a chill crawl up my spine, and turned to find one of the snake-women behind me.

"You wear the skinnn of Laamiaaa," she observed, and I felt the hair on my arms stand on end. Her yellow eyes bore into my own, and I was suddenly very reminded of my first human-like monster. The heavily-accented drawl came back to me, and the way her eyes seemed to radiate hatred, as this woman's did, made me shudder.

"You do not know how important she wasss to ussss." she hissed, rising up on her serpentine legs. "She wasss to be our captaaaain, and you wear her ssssskinnn assss if it were a prizzzzzzzze." She bared her fangs at me, but then a kama was at her neck.

"Back down, Airlea." Yume whispered, blinking sleepily. "I just woke up eleven hours ago and am in no mood to deal with your antics. Kyle is with me. You can tell your sisters and mother that, too." The snake woman's mouth widened in offense, but she backed up, returning to her table, where at least ten pairs of angry yellow eyes glared daggers at us. I shuddered, and grabbed Yume's offered hand.

"Come on. We'll go see the leader, now."

Before we opened the door to where he was, she turned to me, straightening my bandana and shirt, and making sure my face was clean.

"Goodness, Yume, you're acting like my mom." I laughed, but she didn't crack a smile.

"I'm going to try to get him to let you work with me. I think you would help me a lot in my work." she said, and I sobered. If this was important to Yume, then I would follow. Finally, she was satisfied, and took a deep breath, as if she should be the one nervous. "Okay. Let's go."

She opened the doors, and I tried not to blush when I saw Luke, who smiled at us.

"Excellent. You're here! Perfect timing!" He hugged Yume first, and then hugged me, and I blushed a deep red. Then, he turned, putting a hand between my shoulder blades and guiding me to the sarcophagus in the center of the room. "My lord, allow me to introduce Kyle Marie Baker, daughter of- ah-"

He waited for me to fill in the blank, and I shrugged. I had never heard his name.

"_Apollo,_" A deep whisper that resounded in the room filled me with dread. Was that the voice of their captain? "_She is the daughter of Apollo, Lord and God of the Plague._" I reached for Luke, grasping his shirt, and the voice laughed, a scratchy, evil laugh. Was this what my mom had meant by 'the voice of the devil'?

"My lord, it is as you say. She is interested in finding her rightful place in the world, and wants to save her mother, who was sickened due to the curse of her Olympian father." Luke explained shortly.

"_Yes. Tell us your story, Kyle Baker._" I gulped, and told them about my adventures since leaving home. Eventually, the presence of the voice in the room became less threatening, so I started talking more freely, telling them everything I'd felt, said, thought, or even prayed since I'd left home. All three of them were quiet, listening.

"…and then we ended up here." I finished, blushing as I realized how long I'd been talking.

"_Yes. I understand, Kyle. We will see about your mother, but in exchange, you must understand that I need something from you._" I nodded, but then wondered if he could see me.

"Yes, I understand." I answered aloud.

"_Your hands could be useful in neutralizing my enemies. Will you work off your debt to me for saving your mother's life by working together with Yume?"_ I thought about it. The deal didn't seem so bad. I could save my mom, stay with Yume, and be useful. What's wrong with that?

"Sure. That sounds like a good idea to me." Little did I know that I had just sealed my fate.


	8. Chapter 7 The Sisters

Oh, my. I get swamped at school, and finally make a deadline, only to get a review, which them proceeds to whisper complaints to my muse who then decides she agrees with the reviewer. Sigh. I am a slave to you all, much good may it do you. Ah, well. I am pleased to be able to write again, if only for a short while.

Thank you all so very much for the comparison to Carrie, though I, myself, have neither read nor seen it. I will continue not to do so while writing, actually, so as to avoid copying. After all, Stephen King is an amazing writer, and I don't plan to steal the greatness of others - I plan to make my own.

"Aeschylus calls them 'The warring Amazons, men-haters.' They were a nation of women, all warriors…Familiar though they are to us there are few stories about them." Mythology, Chapter II - Brief Myths Arranged Alphabetically: The Amazons, Edith Hamilton

The next morning, I woke to find that the boat was still. We had stopped. Scrambling to my feet over plushy cushions that almost twisted my ankles, I fumbled for the door, tying my bandana.

It was late again, and I thought I might be too late for breakfast, so I went to the open air part - the deck, I guess, - only to find Yume leaning on the railing, watching everyone else in the town we had stopped in. I walked over and leaned on the railing next to her. She had light gray circles under her eyes, and I thought how old she looked with them. She looked so worn and tired.

"Did you not sleep well, Yume?" I asked, worried. She started, but didn't look over at me, continuing to look out at the city.

"The Captain, our Lord Kronos, has ordered us to help bring the Amazons to our side. They're letting us off in Boston, and we'll make our way West to Five Lakes, New York. That's where they live." she said, sounding almost like a machine and not sounding tired at all.

"But didn't we just come from New York?" I was confused. Why leave New York just to come back to it? Wouldn't the other campers be looking for us?

"We left there so that we could go on this mission. Chiron and the camp director wouldn't want us to go, so we had to run away in order to do as our Lord wills." she explained, picking up her bag and beginning to turn away from me, heading down the ramp that led to the ground.

"Our Lord like God?" I asked, following after her. She sighed, exasperated like my mom used to get, and waved her hand at me.

"No, like _a_ god. Kronos. But you can't say his name all the time. Names have power, and so it's really dangerous. We'll just call him our Lord, okay?" I nodded as we reached the bottom and started walking away from the boat. I wondered if Luke was coming with us, or if he was staying. Probably staying. _I wonder what he thought of me? Ack! Kyle, stop thinking of that! You need to worry about your mom! How is she doing? Is she even alive?_ the thought worried me. I needed to get this done fast, or my mom might not make it.

"So, how are we going to get to Five Lakes?" I asked.

"Five Ponds. And we'll take the Gray Sisters' Taxi Service." And with that, I could tell she stopped paying attention to me. She walked up to the curb, and I followed her, watching as she threw a gold coin into the street, muttering something.

"What's you say, Yume?" I asked, turning to her and wondering if she was talking to me after throwing away a gold coin just like that.

"Hailing a taxi." She stepped forward into the street, and I whirled to see a gray, shadowy car that appeared as though it was formed from the smoke all around. I hadn't noticed the smoke being there before, but maybe I just wasn't looking. It said something on the side, too. 'Gyra Sissret,' or something like that. I didn't get a good chance to puzzle it out, because Yume was pushing me in too quickly.

"Get in. We're in a hurry, Kyle, if we want to save your mom. The sooner we start on our Lord's orders, the sooner your mom is saved." She climbed in after me, and pulled her bag with her, slamming the door shut. Having made my promise and knowing I needed to save her at all costs, I focused on our destination.

But it was my first time in a taxi. It wasn't like the lady's car, with seatbelts and soft interior and two separate chairs in the backseat. Instead, it was all one seat, and it felt like leather but stiffer, and black. It was lumpy and not all that comfortable, and instead of seatbelts, it had chains. Altogether, I thought the taxi was a very scary place to be.

"Five Ponds, New York! Out of service area!" The driver yelled.

"Five golden drachmas for the trouble." Yume held up a bag, and one of them looked at us with a green, bloodshot eye.

"HA! Out of metro fare bonus!" she grinned, seeming excited to get the extra money. I noticed that she wasn't alone in the front seat, though, and had two ladies under her that looked very similar and very gray. _Ah, that must be the word outside! 'Gray'! Now, the other word. Ah…_

Suddenly, I was pushed back into my seat, and I quickly grabbed the chain and buckled myself in, afraid for my life. A tinny voice came on through the speakers, on what I'd learned was a radio, and said, "_Hi, this is Granymede, cup-bearer to Zeus, and when I'm out buying wine for the Lord of the Skies, I always buckle up!_" I thought he spoke too late, and had a funny name. I knew who Zeus was, now that I'd been to Camp Half-Blood, and I guessed that Granymede must have been very important to be the king's cup-bearer. Still, his name was weird.

The women in the front seat were arguing about a tooth and eye as we traveled, and I wondered what they meant. Was that a secret code or something? Were they using it just because we were here?

"Hey, Kyle. Take that chain off. You might not get out if you leave it on much longer." Looking down, I noticed that the buckle was looking more and more like stone as we sped along, and so I quickly unbuckled it and took it off, before looking up at the older girl.

"Yume, are you feeling okay today?" She sighed, and looked out the window.

"Yeah. I'm just stressed. It's really important when our Lord gives you a quest like this one. Recruiting people is the difference between winning the war and losing it." she explained.

"War?" I was confused. There was a war going on? True, the other kids at camp had seemed tense, but war was something I thought was always noticed by everyone. Was there a war that was happening all around us, and we just didn't know it?

"Yeah. Between us and the gods." She didn't wait to see my interest, though it was definitely there. "You see, before the gods ruled Mount Olympus, before your dad or mine was ever born, our Lord ruled. He's the Titan of Time, and he heard that his kids would overthrow him, so he tried to destroy then early. But their mother hid the youngest one away, and he tricked our Lord into freeing all of them, so they overthrew him and cut him to pieces with his own scythe. Then, they imprisoned him in the darkest pits of Tartarus. Now-"

"What's Tartarus?" I interrupted, confused.

"Hell, basically." I made a small 'oh' sound as I took that in, listening as she continued. "Anyway, so now he's trying to come back and restore order. You know, when he ruled Olympus, it was known as the Golden Age."

"Wow." I said, in awe. This story all sounded very much like The Fall from Heaven. Only this time, God wasn't all-powerful, and so the Devil won and took over. It kind of made me happy to be on the right side. After all, God is always right. Right? I told Yume what I thought of all of this, and she smiled.

"I'm glad your faith is so strong. Otherwise, we might have had trouble getting a ride. It's a good thing your God is looking out for us, huh?"

"HA!" One of the old ladies in the front cried as the other two wailed, stealing our attention to the front.

"NO!" One screeched. "Give it BACK, Wasp!"

"It's MY turn to have the eye!" the one who'd crowed shot back. "You had it yesterday!"

"Give me the tooth, Tempest! I want to bite the coin!"

"No!" The three bickered and fought and swatted each other, and I wondered what kind of relationship they had.

"Don't look so weirded out, Kyle. They're sisters, and they're very wise." Yume chuckled.

"Wise?" '_Sisters' must be the second word. 'Gray Sisters.' What a weird title._

"Yes, wise!" The one with the tooth proclaimed.

"Hard right!" The one called Wasp commanded, and the one called Tempest turned, slamming Yume into me and ramming the both of us against the door.

"We know all sorts of things!" Tempest proclaimed.

"Where you're going!" Wasp added.

"And about your fath-"

"SHUT UP ANGER!" the other two screeched over her, punching and slapping and gumming her all at once. It was then that I noticed that Anger was the only one with a tooth, and Wasp the only one with an eye.

"So you all share only one eye and tooth?" I asked.

"That's right!" Tempest said angrily.

"And these two don't share!" they all yelled together. Yume laughed.

"But what were you saying? You know about my father?" I asked.

"Accelerating!" Tempest yelled, ignoring my question as the things outside the window began to blur.

"But wait! What about-"

"We're here! Bag of drachmas!" Anger held out a gnarled gray hand as the taxi lurched to a stop, and Yume dropped the bag into it, opening the door and getting out.

"Don't worry about it, Kyle. They never share with those who don't favor the gods. They only work for the money we give them."

"Out!" the sisters screamed, and I scooted out as quickly as I could, only to find that we were in front of a forest, much like my home in Pennsylvania. I smiled, inhaling the breath of fresh pine that I hadn't realized I'd missed until that moment. Walking forward, I wrapped my arms around a tree and hugged it before Yume could stop me.

"Wait! Kyle, wait for us to be received! The people here don't like you just waltzing into their territory, even if you're just hugging a tree! Get out of there before you get shot!" Looking back at her, I realized that she hadn't moved from the street.

"Too late." a voice said, and I felt the point of an arrow in my neck. My blood turned to ice. Yume thrust out her hands in fear and surrender.

"Wait, please! We haven't harmed anyone! We've only come to offer our hands in alliance to the Great Mayor Hippolyta III. Please. We come in peace, unarmed but for her bow and my kamas." She held them up, proving her point, and I saw that she had two women behind her, as well, both in hunting boots and holding bows and arrows. Their clothes were modern-looking, but made like they were supposed to blend in with the trees. Except that one of the girls was wearing an orange Camp half-Blood T-shirt. I smiled happily, grateful to see something familiar, even though she didn't look happy.

"Hey, we just came from there!" I said, pointing at the shirt. She looked startled, and then blushed, like it was embarrassing. She glanced at the girl next to her, and the ones around us, and they lowered their bows.

"You come to request an audience with the Mayor?" The one who originally pointed an arrow at me spoke, but I noticed she had another girl next to her who must've come out when I wasn't looking. _Where are the boys?_ I wondered.

"Yes," Yume replied, still not moving and still very cautious. The girl who spoke, clearly the one in charge, stared at Yume for a long time, and for a moment, I thought that she was boring a hole into Yume with eyes like God's, the way He bores into all our souls at the Judgment. I ducked my head at the thought, ashamed at my own actions thus far.

"Very well. We shall take you to our city. You are not men, so that's good, but you must be aware that we do not take kindly to outsiders. Especially those who come with-" She narrowed her eyes, here. "-_ill-intent_." With that, she turned her back, and the other girls surrounded us, escorting us to the city in the forest.


End file.
